


Drought

by igrab



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: F/M, M/M, Post-House of Hades, Pre-Blood of Olympus, i want to say polyamory but it's not, just relationships that coexist i guess?, spoil me and i will gut you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-10
Updated: 2014-10-10
Packaged: 2018-02-20 14:20:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2431955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/igrab/pseuds/igrab
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She could see that the question was on the tip of his tongue - <i>what do I do?</i> But she didn't have an answer to that. There was no answer, no good one, anyway. It was entirely possible that this was going to end in tears for everyone, simply from the sheer amount of emotion at stake.</p><p>But then, she and Percy had weathered some seriously impossible odds before. If anyone could figure it out, he could. She believed in him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drought

**Author's Note:**

> okay no seriously i started this just after finishing house of hades and am literally only now finishing it up before i dive into Blood, i swear to all the gods if you spoil me i will rain death and destruction upon everything you love, i am not kidding here, i will find where you live and end your miserable existence
> 
> but no realistically i'm going to devour the entire tome tomorrow so w/e i guess

_summer move forward and stitch me the fabric of fall_  
wrap life in the brilliance of death to humble us all

 

New Athens grew strong and beautiful and brilliant, with all the power and hope of young demigods to make it flourish.

Nico wanted to leave. He wanted, more than anything, to just give up and slide away and fade into nothingness, because his existence was sad and futile and a complete fucking waste. He didn't even know who he was, or what he was, his whole life he'd been pulled and dragged and stretched and subsumed; the only thing that he ever really knew to be his own was a stupid crush that wouldn't die.

He was the son of death, he should be able to kill anything. _Die, feelings,_ he'd told himself over and over again, _just stop, stop existing, just go away, just end_.

But he also knew that if he stopped loving Percy Jackson, there would be nothing left of him.

He'd told Jason that he was going to leave, for good, the second it was all over. Those words seemed now like the ignorance of a stupid kid, one who really did believe that he was Over It, that he could cut the ties that bound him so easily. Past Nico was such an idiot.

> They were sitting at the table on the Argo II, eating and chatting in low voices, and Nico peeled an orange with his fingernails and watched Percy lick blue frosting out of a blue cupcake. He wasn't listening, mostly, until someone - Leo - said something along the lines of, 'What's up with the blue food?'
> 
> Percy smiled all enigmatic and shit, revealing nothing. Nico felt jealousy and anger rise in him like a terrible clenching wave. _No,_ he thought, _fuck you, you don't get to know about that, you don't get to understand. Mine._ Of course, it wasn't just his, Annabeth certainly knew. But Nico had long ago accepted that he would have nothing that Annabeth didn't have. That she always came first. Fine. He could deal with that. But no one else. For the love of all the gods, no one else.

Ha, ha ha ha, like he could ever leave.

Percy and Annabeth were cheerfully arguing about something, blah blah architecture blah. Once upon a time, it would have made Nico happy, seeing them disagree, but they had quickly learned how to bicker rather than fight, how to move with each other and pick their battles and enjoy the way they pissed each other off. The other couples, they were all still learning, but Percy and Annabeth made it look easy.

Then he looked over and _saw_ Nico, standing in the shadows. Nico's heart leapt into his throat. Percy smiled.

> It was October and Percy and Annabeth were making out like the teenagers they were, and were not exactly being subtle about it, either. Nico had slipped through the shadows into the Jackson's living room because he didn't have anything better to do, and when he heard the wet, awkward noises, immediately wanted to jam a hot poker through his eye. Instead, he went into the kitchen, started doing the dishes. Let the sound of the running water drown them out.
> 
> He started when he heard a sudden noise from the hallway, and looked up to see Percy, hair rumpled and sea-green eyes bright and lips flushed and a bit swollen. Asshole. Fucking asshole. He made Nico so angry.
> 
> "Hey, let me help," he said, and sidled right into Nico's personal space. Washing the dishes was always easier with magic water powers, and it could have made Nico feel superfluous, unwanted, unnecessary.
> 
> Instead, they fell into a rhythm together, and Percy didn't talk about sexcapades with blond girlfriends, so Nico didn't let himself fixate on how much it hurt. He dried plates and stacked them neatly. He needled Percy about some new gaming thing. He ducked and sputtered when Percy flicked water at him, then grinned, lips stretching too-wide over his bony teeth, and retaliated with a smear of soap bubbles. They laughed, Nico silent, Percy big and loud and unencumbered by all the things that remained unsaid between them.
> 
> Annabeth came out of the bathroom, yawning, and narrowed her eyes at the pair of them.
> 
> "Idiots," she muttered, but it sounded fond.
> 
> Nico felt so guilty for being fiercely and painfully glad that Percy chose to finish the dishes rather than go and join her on the couch. He felt awful, because the only way he knew how to be happy was at the expense of something beautiful. He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve Percy. He should never have come here.

Percy loped over with that easy grin that Nico wanted to punch off, or just kiss. Mostly just kiss. (He had spent hours upon hours of nonlinear time trying to precisely calculate how that grin would feel against his own lips, what it would be like, feeling Percy Jackson try to laugh and kiss at the same time.) "Hey there, Zombie Dude," he called out as he came to a stop too close and smiled with his whole body.

"Jackass," Nico muttered in return, but it had no heat in it.

"Wow, uncalled for," was Percy's equally blithe response. "You want to come help paint houses?"

And see, that was the thing, Nico thought as he followed Percy back down to the budding sprawl of cottages where Annabeth was running around with a clipboard and Butch and Clovis were flirting over tubs of paint. Percy hadn't asked Nico to help when they were doing construction, or planning, or any of the other numerous jobs that Nico would have felt awkward and ill-fit to contribute to. He didn't pressure him into doing his fair share, like Jason had already tried to, with predictably unsuccessful results. Percy had waited until Nico gotten past the thorny knot of anti-social stubbornness, waited for the precise moment when he was feeling just left out enough to want to do something, but not enough to tip him over into resentment. It was unconscious, that was for certain, but the fact remained, Percy just knew how to handle him. He was a different person around him. He felt, in these small moments, that he was alive.

 

_summer move forward and leave your heat anchored in dust  
forgotten him, cheated him, painted illusions of lust_

 

Percy and Annabeth sat in the shadow of a tree that once held a girl, and looked out over their dominion.

"We've done a good thing," Percy said, his face handsome and alight with hope and sunset orange. Annabeth wished she had a fraction of Rachel's skill; she would have loved to paint him.

"We're not done yet." There was so much left to do, but it was exhilarating, being part of this. Of something that would change the world for the better, for once, creating good rather than preventing evil. And to do it with Percy at her side, well, that was the best of all.

But there was something. Something tugging at the edges of her awareness, like a thorn snagging a tightly-woven cloth. She had striven to be the tactician, the architect, the cunning artificer that was part of what her mother meant. Lately, though, she had felt as if other things were starting to become important. The meaning of the word 'wisdom' was changing.

Her thoughts weren't so sharp, now, weren't fast and quick and clean. There were gray areas, qualifications, things she sensed and felt rather than analyzed. It was from this new and somewhat uncomfortable abstraction that she had begun to notice, in increments, that something wasn't entirely all right.

"Percy," she began, then stopped, unable to think of how to put it into words. She didn't know for certain, not with any kind of factual accuracy. It was just a feeling. But that feeling also told her that if she didn't speak up, and soon, that it would all break into something messy and irreconcilable. More than anything, she wanted to avoid that. She loved Percy, and that was why she had to do this.

"Hmm?" He turned to her, totally unaware, his face open and happy and carefree.

For a moment - one tiny, jealous, selfish sort of moment - she wanted to shake her head, lean into him, and forget. She wanted to put down the burden of truth and wisdom and choose love and willful ignorance. She wanted to be the only thing that Percy would ever care about.

But that was unrealistic. Percy could no more stop loving other people than the sun could stop shining, or, in this instance, than Annabeth herself could stop from choosing the right path over the selfish one. Even if he'd never said it, this was something he trusted her to do, and if he found out, later, after all the repressed feelings exploded like a powder keg and destroyed relationships that Percy relied on - he wouldn't be able to forgive her. How could he? He would rather cut off his own limbs than hurt someone he cared about.

So she told him. Not in facts or statements, but in questions. She told him about Bob. He told her about what Nico had said, that night before he and Reyna had left with the statue - confessed that he'd been thinking it over, but he didn't understand what it could mean.

She told him, if you were in his shoes, what would you want yourself to be looking at?

He didn't get it.

She told him, why do you think he's still here? and the look he gave her was one of confusion and worry, as if the thought of Nico being anywhere else was something that hadn't occurred to him to be worried about. There were a lot of things that hadn't occurred to him, apparently.

Finally, Annabeth sighed, exasperated. "Perce, I think he likes you."

Percy blinked. "Okay?"

Oh for the - Annabeth loved him, she really did, but sometimes she just wanted to slam his cute dumb head in a book. Preferably a really big, really important tome of mythology. Maybe right on the pages about Hylas and Hyacinth and Ganymede and Pelops. It would be really, really good for him.

"As in like like," she said, supremely glad that none of her brothers and sisters were around to hear her being asinine for her cute dumb boyfriend. "As in maybe what he was actually saying is that he wanted you to notice _him_."

"Huh," Percy said, which was... promising, she supposed. "Huh."

Annabeth waited, watching the expressions play out over her boyfriend's face. Surprise, trepidation, confusion, unease, frustration (at himself, for feeling uneasy), determination, acceptance, curiosity. All within the space of a minute or so. 

It certainly took him far too long to ask the question Annabeth had been braced for. "...Why would you even - okay, maybe you know him better than I do, but then, why would you tell me?" Another expression rose up - guilt, pain, before he pushed it quickly away. Annabeth was all too used to seeing Percy shove complicated emotions under the guise of humor, so even if he wasn't embracing them, she was proud that he wasn't just laughing it off.

"Because things like that have a habit of coming out," she murmured, "and you'd feel betrayed if I didn't tell you what I knew. It... would have been petty of me."

Percy gave her an incredulous look. "Are you - do you want me to, I don't know, _choose_?"

"What? No!" she answered too quickly, then let the flare of anger go in a sweet sigh. "Oh, Percy. No, silly. I love you, remember? That's not going to change. I just..." She turned it over in her head, thought her words out carefully before responding. "...I just think that it hurts him sometimes, you not knowing. And I know _you_ well enough to know that that's the last thing you'd ever want, so."

She could see that the question was on the tip of his tongue - _what do I do?_ But she didn't have an answer to that. There was no answer, no good one, anyway. It was entirely possible that this was going to end in tears for everyone, simply from the sheer amount of emotion at stake.

But then, she and Percy had weathered some seriously impossible odds before. If anyone could figure it out, he could. She believed in him.

 

_how much longer dear angels come break me with ice  
let the water of calm trickle over my doubts_

_come let me drown_

 

It was the pink elephant of revelations. Now that it had been brought to his attention, Percy wondered how in Hades he had managed to miss something so blindingly obvious.

He saw the way Nico _looked_ at him, now. He saw every one of their interactions, stretched out like beads on a silver chain, and he recalled with guilt how easily he'd brushed them off. How quickly he'd forgotten. How simply he had written Nico off as that weird kid in the corner, when the truth was, he was that weird kid in the corner who was always there when Percy needed him. That weird kid in the corner who had no one else.

Percy wasn't used to being the jock, but in terms of Camp Half-Blood, he realized that that's exactly what he was, and he'd been treating Nico like the scrawny nerd that Percy had always been, everywhere else. It almost made him sick to think of how wrong he'd been.

The number of people he'd failed lately was mounting up. Bob, Calypso, Nico - he was sure there were more, he was sure that not remembering them was part of the problem. 

But he didn't for the life of him know what to _do_ about it.

If it hadn't been for Leo, Percy might've felt the same about Calypso, now that he thought about it. So naturally, his first instinct was to try and set Nico up with someone - but something in his heart wrenched, like it knew that this was different. Calypso had loved him because she didn't have a choice. She had loved others. She was terribly lonely, on that island. It had taken someone new, someone who was truly a piece of the outside world, that had broken her pattern. But for Nico - 

There was no outside world. There was nothing more. Wow, that was a selfish thought, wasn't it? But Nico had met everyone at both camps, and Percy was still the only one he really - 

Percy cursed and shoved a hand through his messy black hair. Okay, okay, he was sort of dwelling on this. He didn't _actually_ know what Nico felt about him, or if he was making up all this shit about Nico's motivations. But really, it made sense. It made a _lot_ of sense. He kept coming back. For Percy. He may not have seemed happy about it - downright miserable sometimes, but Percy got that, he knew that love was awful - but he came anyway. 

Every way he looked at it, Percy could only see himself as a giant from Nico's eyes.

So he didn't know how to set him up with anyone else. How many times had Percy saved him? How many times had it been thoughtless, careless even, just another case of Percy Jackson, big damn hero? He didn't know. Looking at himself like this, it made him feel woefully inadequate, even to himself. And he couldn't stop. Wouldn't stop. Hey, look at that mortal weakness, popping up again! Remember when he'd thought it was no big deal? Past Percy was such an idiot.

> He came back from his date windblown and a little manic around the edges, giddy with happiness. He stopped short at the sight of his mom cleaning up plates that looked suspiciously blue. Who was she feeding blue food to??
> 
> "Hey, mom. Company?"
> 
> She smiled at him, gentle and warm, but there was something a little sad in it, which he didn't understand at the time. "You just missed your friend."
> 
> "Who??" Grover didn't come by anymore, Tyson was family, and Rachel didn't like to leave her man cave (with good reason, her place was insanely awesome and Percy would totally spend more time there if he wasn't worried about it getting awkward with Annabeth). Who could it be?
> 
> Sally raised an eyebrow. "Nico?"
> 
> Oh shit, Nico. He'd forgotten about him. He sure liked to pop in unannounced, huh? "Ohh, okay. What did he want?" Percy frowned. He hoped the guy had at least stuck around to say hi.
> 
> His mother shook her head, tucking her face away as she turned to pile the dishes in the sink. "He just needed to talk to someone, and you were busy."
> 
> Percy felt his stomach lurch a little. He hated hearing that anyone was upset, but missing it entirely? He just felt like he should have known, somehow, that he should have had some sort of premonition or tingly spidey sense to alert him that he was needed back at home. "Is he gone already? Where did he go? Can I help?"
> 
> When Sally looked up this time, there were no shadows in her face, just a sweet, loving little smile. "He said he was going to leave, but I've got a feeling he's still out on the fire escape. He likes to sit there sometimes, when you're out."
> 
> Another swoop in his stomach. Another little sting of guilt. He turned immediately toward his room, headed for the little balcony out there, where his moonflower plant had started to curl around the banister. He may have wasted however-long being busy (not that the time was wasted - it was a great date and he loved spending time with his girl), but he was here now. He would do what he could to help.

He didn't know what to do, so he went to the one person who always did.

Rachel's man cave (her words, not his) was technically in the same location as the traditional Oracle's cave, but at some point she had gotten it _seriously_ tricked out. Game systems, computer shit, endless art supplies and weird divination oddities and tons of books, sorted in some system that only Rachel could comprehend. With all the building going on for New Athens, the Oracle had wheedled some renovations out of Annabeth - more like this huge rabbit warren of sweet rooms and secret passages and tall skylights to let in the sun. Which just gave her space for _even more cool shit_.

They were square now, of course. Annabeth and Rachel had become best girlfrunds or something (or whatever, Percy was quite frankly terrified of their combined might), and with the last lingering traces of awkward banished, Rachel had started unironically referring to Percy as her 'bro'.

Which was pretty sweet, because Rachel made the _best_ bro. 

"Percy darling!" Rachel sang out as he let himself in, trying not to get tangled in the weird beaded curtains on the way. "Let me guess - girl trouble."

Percy rolled his eyes. She always guessed girl trouble, and it was never girl trouble, ever. If it was, he was one hundred percent certain that Rachel would be the first to hear about it - from Annabeth.

" _Bzzzt_ , try again."

The Oracle of Delphi was wearing paint-splattered jeans and a baggy shirt, both with copious frayed holes. There was no way to avoid the knowledge that her bra was neon pink leopard print, either, but when this once might have made things weird, it didn't bother him now. It was a boob holster. Girls wore them. Wow, so scandalous. Rachel leaned her elbows on a moulded balcony railing from her art loft, equally as unconcerned with the state of her dishabille.

"Boy trouble?"

Okay, usually she didn't actually keep guessing, or at least, she never guessed _that_. It made Percy a little dumbstruck and a little worried - did she know what was going on? Did someone ( _Annabeth_ ) clue her in? But after a moment he realized that she was just as surprised as he was, that he'd reacted so seriously.

"Oh, my. I think this calls for mocha fudge ripple. Unless you're already in moose tracks territory?"

He shook his head. Moose tracks was for breakups and bizarre transformation incidents, everyone knew that.

"Good! Let's get out the bowls and you can tell me all about it."

He told her, in fits and starts, and she listened without once interrupting, which was only one of the many reasons that Rachel Dare was an actual saint. Afterwards, she tipped her head to one side, peered at his face. Looked at him, until he felt like she was seeing right through the tangle of ridiculously complicated emotions that he couldn't put into words, to look at his soul.

"Okay, trick question. Don't think about Annabeth, or demigod stuff, or anyone else in the world. Do you like him? Do you, when you sit down and think about it, actually enjoy spending time with the person known as Nico di Angelo?"

Percy opened his mouth, then closed it. No. This deserved more than just a flippant answer, and Rachel wasn't going to accept that. Think about it, she said, and he did.

> The night was quiet and the air at Camp Half-Blood was cool, a gentle breeze tickling the surface of the lake. The cabins of the big three had sometimes seemed terribly empty; sometimes it made him feel isolated, alone. But not that night. That night, Percy walked the trails without feeling them, pleasantly sleepy and full of good food and better company. He could still feel the firelight's warmth on his skin, and, particularly, seeping out through the black clothes of the boy he carried in his arms. A boy that was no longer a boy, not really. Not after everything he'd been through.
> 
> He glanced up at the Hades cabin, but it was still too new, too fresh and intimidating and all cold, dark stone. No way. His feet took him on further, up the now-familiar steps to his own cabin, airy and salt-weathered, and when the rope and wood creaked under his weight it felt like it was welcoming him home.
> 
> Nico made a low noise as Percy pushed back the blankets and tucked him in; he squirmed, trying to get up, but Percy put a firm hand on his chest and just held him there, a fond smile on his face. "Go back to sleep, zombie dude," he muttered, and brushed the back of his hand over the boy's cheek, thinking only that he was thin, that he needed to eat more. That he looked small and waif-like and Percy's heart was twisting in his chest, worrying, thinking _Someone needs to take care of you_ , thinking, _Don't keep pushing people away_ , thinking, _You need someone_ , thinking, _Until then, I'm not going to let you go._

"He needs me," Percy blurted out, and Rachel's eyebrow only arched further.

"He needs someone, sure. Why does it have to be you?"

> "You totally lied to me," Nico bit back with so much venom that Percy might've died, if he'd been, you know, not invincible and also immune to sarcasm. As it was, he just grinned.
> 
> "Oh, come on, it wasn't that bad!"
> 
> "You're right. It was worse. I changed my mind, I don't want to be a part of society. I'm going to rent a cave near Rachel's and live on cat memes and ambrosia."
> 
> "How do you even _know_ that word," Percy muttered, exasperated.
> 
> Nico's only response was to sniff with disdain. "If I recall correctly, it's your fault."
> 
> It was, actually, but like hell was Percy going to admit to _that_. "Caves are so last century. We could rent a boat and stock it with red bull."
> 
> Nico had fished around in Percy's backpack for his phone, had somehow keyed in the right passcode (okay, Annabeth's birthday did not exactly take rocket science to figure out), and was now flipping through pictures, mostly of (guess who) Annabeth. He seemed to take a personal affront to these, especially the ones in which she was looking particularly dreamy. "Well, maybe. If we didn't get eaten alive by monsters. Woah, hey."
> 
> The picture he'd landed on wasn't of Annabeth. It was of his own face, instead, taken while he was sleeping, and Percy hadn't thought anything of it at the time - except that he looked cute like that and he wasn't scowling, for once - but now, acutely aware that the only other person he stalked like that was his girlfriend, he felt a little bit awkward. "Never mind that," he muttered.
> 
> He expected to hear some sort of snide remark, something sassy and sarcastic, maybe something about how percy was secretly pining for him, no homo - but instead something in Nico's face just, shifted, and he flicked his thumb across the screen. The next one, soon after he started waking up, glaring balefully at the phone. The next one, taken by someone else apparently, their twin backs as they hunched close together over their controllers and glared up at the tv screen, engrossed in trying to one-up each other.
> 
> "Wow," Nico finally said, and though at the time Percy heard it as the sarcastic comment he was waiting for, just a little late, in retrospect he can hear that his voice is shaking. "I'm totally going to tell everyone at school that I have a hot boyfriend who takes creepy pictures of me, then everyone will leave me the fuck alone." With that abrupt phrase, Nico pushed to his feet, then stalked off into the nearest shadow.

Percy had never been able to figure out what had happened, there, but now he sort of got it. Sort of. More pressing was the lingering feeling of possession, that satisfaction that had sat in his chest when Nico had said that - _hell yes, tell everyone, it would be awesome_ , and though it was meant to be a joke - really, it was - he wasn't laughing anymore.

"No reason," he told Rachel, voice distant, feeling like reality was barreling on ahead and leaving him behind. "There isn't any reason. But I don't want him to."

He swallowed, staring down at his hands. Fuck.

"I only just - I feel like an ass because I didn't notice, all this time, because in my head I just assumed he'd be there. Because he's mine, okay? I didn't mean to be his whole world but I am and the worst part is that I don't want to give it up. I don't want him to go find someone else who would take dumb pictures of his face and text them to Annabeth with terrible emojis and who else would understand, anyway? Jason?" Oh, he'd noticed that they'd gotten close all of a sudden, and Percy hadn't been able to figure out why that made him feel like growling. "Fuck that. No. No way. He's mine. He's my best friend. Grover left and Tyson's family and Annabeth's Annabeth and you're my bro but they aren't _him_. I make him smile! He makes me smile, okay that not hard to do but he makes me feel like I've done something right at some point, he makes me feel important, more than anything else has, up to and including serious cases of world-saving! I love Annabeth, I adore her and I want to be hers forever, but..."

And he stopped, because saying all that felt like ripping open a scab and letting it drain out, but what he was left with was an irreconcilable dichotomy. He loved Annabeth. She was his girlfriend. What he had with Nico - what he _wanted_ to have with Nico - it was something else. But maybe, in terms of normal human interaction, it would be considered... more than friends. But they're _different_. They are. And he wants both.

"Thanks Rae you've been a great help I've gotta go bye," Percy said in a rush, barreling out of the door.

 

_once I knew myself_  
and with knowing came love  
I would know love again if I had faith enough 

_too far is next spring and her jubilant shout_  
so angels, inside  
is the only way out 

 

When it happened, it was simpler than it should have been, as simple as everything before it had been complicated.

Nico woke up to the unprecedented feeling of lips on his.

He was never at his best in the mornings. There was always a period of half-lucidity, where things moved with dreamlike slowness, and sometimes it was a reprieve from the bad thoughts, a gentle halcyon moment where everything was beautiful and nothing hurt.

So he didn't think about it, just kissed back, slow and perfect, and didn't fight the thing in his head that told him it was Percy.

Then he opened his eyes, and it was.

"Hey," Percy said, measured and quiet, but the smile on his face was something brilliant and sure. Nico felt as if he was drowning. Nothing was catching up right in his head. His world was full of light and water and he didn't know which way was up. 

"Hi," Nico murmured in return. His own voice sounded shy and sweet to his ears, like they did this every day, like this was normal, and it was early enough that he didn't fight it. He let himself smile like he had every right to be besotted.

Percy breathed out and his eyes widened and he whispered, "Wow." Then they were kissing again, with no transitioning moment, and this time Nico felt himself whimper and shake and oh, no, his brain was waking up, he was _thinking_.

"Perce," he muttered, in between slow, drugging kisses that made him equal parts confused and not-remotely-confused-at-all, "Percy. Hey. Fishface. Waveboy. Princess Ariel. Stop kissing me, you doof, I'm trying to freak out at you," and at that, Percy laughed, with his lips on his, and it felt a hundred times better than anything Nico ever dreamed.

"Don't freak out," Percy said, simple as anything. "I'm just sorry it took me so long."

Later, Nico would (awkwardly) ask about Annabeth, and Percy would (less awkwardly but still not exactly Mr. Smooth) somehow articulate that they had saved the world, things like jealousy and normal standards for relationships were kind of hard to fathom. Which was to say, he intended to keep them both, as long as they didn't have a problem with it. Annabeth certainly didn't. Nico had already come to terms with sharing, and the long and stumbling process of loving the way Annabeth made Percy's face light up was far behind him. The only thing that fell away was guilt, self-hatred, and casual emotional wounds, which they were all better off without.

> "You're the only one who makes me feel alive," Nico murmured into the still of the night, his eyes closed and head tucked into Percy's shoulder. His small frame was wedged under his arm, and Annabeth was within reach, but mostly just watching, her face warm and lovely in the moonlight.
> 
> Percy's heart tightened and he didn't fight it either, didn't push it aside and make a joke to try and put a lid on the wellspring of feelings that surged forth. Instead, he leaned in and nuzzled his face into that tousled black hair, kissed the top of his head, not gently, his brows drawing in with sympathy. "You are alive," he murmured. "You're alive, and real, and I love you, okay? I love you, Nico di Angelo. I love you."

Eventually, Annabeth did get Percy to read about all the boytoys that kiddie mythology books wouldn't talk about. This was both life-affirming and hilarious, because he was absolutely never going to call Nico anything else, ever, and because even though he'd come to terms with it on his own, it was nice to know that there was some familial precedent, there.

Mostly, though, Percy just did what he'd always done - faced the impossible odds, acknowledged them, and casually flipped them off on his way past. He was Percy Jackson, big damn hero. He could do whatever he wanted.


End file.
